Teaching Umbridge
by Miss Shannon
Summary: "Then, my dear fellow educators, I propose we make a bet!" Terrorized by the pink nuisance that is Dolores Umbridge, the Hogwarts staff decides to secretly fight back. What starts out as a silly bet soon brings about a series of misadventures. Humor; features most of the teachers.
1. The Bet

**Teaching Umbridge**

**by Miss Shannon**

**Chapter One - The Bet**

Hogwarts Castle was a wondrous place that held many secrets and memories, having hosted the youth of the British wizarding community for hundreds of years. Its grounds were vast and ranged from rich green slopes to cumbersome terrain. There was the large forest that remained mysterious to most occupants of the castle as not everyone had paid as many visits to it as Harry Potter and his friends- it was – sometimes ironically – called the Forbidden Forest for a reason.

And then there was the large shimmering lake that, if one regarded it from its shores, seemed to melt into the sky in the distance, stretching out far between the mountains. Hogwarts was home not only to the students and teachers: There were ghosts, a hazardous Whomping Willow, gigantic spiders, centaurs, an army of owls and several cats. For a while, it had even held a mass murderer, disguised as a pet rat. For all the formidable things that could be discovered inside the walls of Hogwarts Castle, one might think that there was really nothing that could still upset someone who had been residing there as long as Minerva McGonagall had.

The day was unusually warm for October and the grounds were alight with the golden autumn sun that brought out the green of the leaves and gave the ancient walls a warm glow. Around the grounds, students were basking contently in the sun, looking as if there was not a care in the world. Bodies were stretched out by the lake, bare arms thrown over eyes for shade.

The teachers, however, were staying inside the castle, filing into the abandoned classroom on the second floor one by one. Dust was dancing in the beams of sunlight that was shining in through the crown glass windows and the unruly stacks of ancient textbooks in the far corner of the room gave it a stuffy feel. McGonagall stood with her back against the teacher's desk, her arms folded in front of her chest, waiting for everyone to arrive and settle down.

First was Professor Snape who looked even more indignant than usual. While he usually responded with a great deal of politeness to Minerva's requests, he had curled his lip when she had invited him to join her and the rest of the faculty in a secret meeting. To no avail, he had attempted to turn her down by explaining that he had been planning to enjoy the good weather by the lake. She suspected, however, that it was not the weather but his weekly meeting with Professor Sinistra who Dumbledore had assigned to helping the potion's master with editing the Potions textbook he was working on.

After having complained about the shortcomings of textbooks such as "Advanced Potion Making" to whose instructions he had apparently been making alterations as early as during his own time as a student, Albus had finally convinced Snape to stop whining and do a better job at it. The Potions master had taken the bait and had spent the entire summer break meticulously writing down instructions, riddled with hidden insults to the reader. That and the fact that Snape had written at least a thousand pages – which was far too much to be printed, let alone bought – Dumbledore had convinced Snape that some serious editing was in order. To accomplish that, he had asked – or maybe forced – Professor Sinistra to give Snape some much-needed guidance.

Snape had been livid at first, but lately he seemed oddly mollified. Even though he pretended it was due to the fact that Professor Sinistra had published a rather neat little guide to Astronomy a few years prior and thus was quite accomplished when it came to writing textbooks, Minerva was not fooled. His long and deliberately bored look towards her and Charity Burbage only confirmed what she had been suspecting for a while: He fancied her. If that term actually applied to someone as cold and withdrawn as Severus Snape.

Charity Burbage was approaching sixty and her pointed beige hat sat slightly askew atop her thin blond hair. She was a kind woman who was always a little distracted but generally a good teacher. Sometimes she had problems with discipline in class but the students seemed to like her enough to never go too far. Also, Charity was rarely seen without some obscure muggle artifact or another. Today she was toying with something that looked like two pieces of string with two tiny round objects on each end. Despite the fact that it was black, it looked a little like the Expendable Ears Minerva had confiscated from Fred and George Weasley just this morning.

Aurora Sinistra was about half Charity's age but seemed to be getting along well with her. She was on good terms with everyone despite the fact that she mostly kept to herself. There was nothing truly remarkable about Aurora's appearance when one saw her at a desk, engrossed in a book, as one could usually find her in the faculty lounge. She was slim and of medium height with straight dark-brown hair and pleasant features. Her large dark-blue eyes, however, were what made her special. She nodded towards Snape who gave a barely perceptible nod in return and sat down at one of the desks next to Charity. In the meantime, Snape had taken up staring out of the window with obvious boredom.

Next to arrive were Professors Flitwick and Sprout. While the tiny Charms professor looked a bit harassed, Professor Sprout was her usually jolly self. Minerva wondered whether she still remembered that there was a poppy stuck behind her ear. They both took seats next to Charity and while Sprout struck up a conversation with her, Flitwick climbed his chair and absent-mindedly began to levitate a forgotten chocolate frog that was probably so far past its best before date that the attempt to eat it would likely pose a hazard to one's heath.

The last pair to arrive were Professors Trelawney and Vector, who looked slightly annoyed by her companion. Minerva found it understandable, as the two of them were polar opposites. Trelawney was wrapped in scarves and several bracelets were dangling from both of her arms. Her hair was a bushy mess spilling down her thin back and she was peering at her colleagues through thick, lopsided glasses. Professor Vector was prim-looking, her hair in a strict bun and wearing conservative black robes. She could be reasonably friendly, once you got to know her, but at first glance she looked terrifying. Quickly, she strode over towards Professor Snape who had, for the moment, given up his observation of the cloudless sky and took the seat next to him while Trelawney sat by Professor Sinistra, a fellow tower-dweller. Sinistra smiled and propped her chin up on her hand,, watching Professor Binns float across the room to make himself comfortable on one of the chairs.

"Sorry. First year fell off his broom and broke his arm. Poppy can't make it, I'm sorry." Madame Hooch said in her typical clipped voice and shrugged, her cat-like eyes momentarily lingering on her fellow teachers, then settled down next to Flitwick.

"Now that everyone is assembled," Minerva waved her hand and the door fell closed. "I would like to say a few words."

Having the faculty members sitting at students' desks with her standing in front of them seemed almost comical to Minerva as they seemed to represent the typical types of students that could be found in a class. Snape, deliberately bored, Charity, all alert and interested, Flitwick, a little distracted but smiling kindly and Binns, who was asleep already, snoring slightly.

"I have asked you all to be here today for a special reason."

"It's Albus' birthday again, isn't it?" Hooch groaned. "How old does he turn this year? 300? If this is about another surprise party, I am out. I don't know who made the punch last year, but I personally can't remember much!"

Professor Vector was rolling her eyes at her colleague's indiscretion while Charity was giggling quietly.

"No, Hooch." After all these years, Minerva had hardly got used to calling her by her last name only as Madame Hooch seemed to hate her first name, Rolanda. That was why Snape took great pleasure in greeting her by said first name, stretching each vowel out with emphasis. "It is not about Albus' birthday. That was two months ago and you were not invited."

"What is it then, Minerva?" Snape asked in his typical silky tones, his voice low but commanding attention nonetheless. "I am afraid I do not have all afternoon as I have a book to write."

"Yes, Severus. You're writing a book. We have all taken notice of that and there's no need to repeat it!"

Snape turned towards Professor Vector and narrowed his eyes menacingly. "Is there anything you would like to say to me?"

"Yes. Get off your high horse, Severus."

Snape's eyes were shooting daggers and Minerva decided to intervene. "If you would kindly let me explain..." she hissed. As easily as Minerva dominated a class of students, her natural authority seemed to fail her with her colleagues. Trying to look at them through Umbridge's eyes, she winced. If the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was out to get them, she would.

There was Flitwick, brilliant but once against levitating the chocolate frog that was now hovering just above Hooch's head. Said flying instructor who always got tipsy at parties and never held back when it came to rude comments, Snape, who no one in their right mind would want around children, Trelawney, starry-eyed and completely neurotic, Professor Vector, who rarely managed to keep her sharp tongue in check, Binns, an unnaturally sleepy ghost or Professor Sinistra who was a fine teacher but had once famously bolted from the room when a student had asked for dating advice. Not to mention Charity, who had stuffed her peculiar muggle object into her ears and was swaying from side to side with her eyes closed. Yes, Minerva concluded. If Umbridge was hell-bent on reforming the magical education system, everyone was quite likely to be unemployed, soon. Except maybe for her, she mused but then dismissed the thought. Minerva McGonagall was not one to gloat.

"As you all might be aware of, the newest addition to our staff is intent on making some changes to this school. I may speak for all of you when I say that she is an insufferable, vindictive old hag who uses questionable methods on the students and threatens the peace here at Hogwarts. I suggest we do something against that."

A stunned silence had fallen over the room.

"Do something?" Trelawney echoed incredulously. "I mean, I could..."

"What? Predict her demise? She will be terrified," Snape snarled and earned an appreciative nod from Professor Vector whose throat he had been on only a moment ago.

"What shall we do? The minister is backing her up. How are we supposed to fight her? Not everyone is a brave Gryffindor like yourself, Minerva." Professor Flitwick was weighing his head which was just above the tabletop as the desk was fashioned for wizards and witches of normal size.

"I think Filius is quite right," Charity added, having discarded the muggle artifact for the time being. "It is too dangerous. What if we all loose our jobs?"

"I for one would like the old hag tied to a tree and attacked by centaurs!" Hooch roared. "Whatever your plan is, Minny, count me in."

Professor Sprout's poppy had fallen to the floor and her face was ashen. "I don't know. With You-Know-Who on the rise again and the Ministry oblivious to it, I don't believe we should do anything that distracts us from protecting the children."

Minerva had expected a little more enthusiasm for her idea and looked around for some support. Binns was still snoring, Snape was looking skeptical and Professor Sinistra seemed bewildered and unwilling to contribute.

What a bunch, Minerva thought, shaking her head. How on earth was she going to get through this year with Umbridge on the prowl and passive allies like this? What by Merlin's beard could motivate them to back her up on this? She was sure that she could somehow bully them into tagging along but she needed their creative input as she was not yet sure how exactly to get to Umbridge. Suddenly, she had an idea. It was not honorable and extremely childish but that was how they worked, she tried to console herself. Technically, she was just using psychological warfare against them.

"Then, my dear fellow educators, I propose we make a bet!" she announced.

Another bout of stunned silence greeted her until Sprout spoke with what sounded like quite a bit of intrigue. "A bet?"

She could see that she had their full attention now and was beginning to feel better about herself. Being professors at a prestigious magical school that lay in a lonely place in the mountains, busy with their jobs and always on some sort of duty, the staff was constantly looking for a bit of excitement. That, however, was rarely found. Unlike Hooch, who liked to have a little too much punch than was good for her, most of the teachers were very much willing to preserve a bit of authority. Consequently, they needed a hobby that would both provide a distraction from their jobs and still not draw unwanted attention to them. The problem had existed for centuries and somewhere along the way, someone had set up a secret Hogwarts staff betting pool which had become quite an obsession for most of the teachers.

They placed bets on everything: That Snape would get married within ten years of his taking up teaching at Hogwarts (Snape had won as he had been the only one who had bet against it), that Harry Potter would turn out to be a red head like his mother (Professor Sprout had grinned brightly on Harry's first day, having mistaken a streak of chocolate on top of Ron Weasley's forehead for the famous scar), that Lupin would kill someone in his werewolf-form (Snape had been the one who had placed the bet and no one had found it tasteful to participate), when Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would finally discover that they were fancying each other (only Sprout was still in the running) and so forth.

The most popular bets were the ones that required certain actions to win. Last summer they had made bets on who would get most students through the O.W.L.s, for example. One evening, and Minerva was sure that a fair bit of firewhiskey had been involved, they had bet who was able to make it past Filch and fasten a bow around Mrs Norris' neck - without magic. Most of the bets were stupid und completely useless but although Minerva generally frowned upon that kind of business, sometimes she found herself participating. Snape kept announcing how ridiculous and pathetic they were for taking pleasure in such childish things, but not even he could deny that obsession had turned into addiction.

Minerva knew that they would be unable to resist.

"A bet?" Sinistra echoed.

"I bet you that I will be able to drive Dolores Umbridge out of Hogwarts before the end of the school year. If someone beats me to it, they win."

Her colleagues' eyes had grown huge and excited.

"What's the wager?" Vector asked.

Minerva grinned, aware of the fact that she had them right where she wanted them.

"Dinner at the Three Broomsticks for two, all inclusive. What do you think?"

She knew it wasn't important what exactly was at stake as long as they had a bet going.

"That sounds reasonable," Snape said.

"Perfectly so!" Flitwick beamed.

"I'm in."

"And me, too."

Minerva smirked.

"Then let the fun begin."

- **to be continued** -


	2. On a Roll

**Chapter Two – On a Roll**

**A/N:** Kiddies of the new millennium with your MP3-Players and iTunes, remember that Harry Potter is set in the nineties. If you don't know what a tape and a pencil have to do with each other, google it. ;-) Just kidding. I know this chapter is a little absurd but that is the whole aim of this story. And I give you a cookie if you get what the title refers to... Now, please enjoy!

Minerva McGonagall was a reasonable person who always weighed her options before taking action. Therefore, she seldom found herself regretting something she had done. Today was a notable exception. She was sitting opposite Albus Dumbledore in his study in silence while the headmaster regarded her with an unreadable expression over the rim of his half moon spectacles. He had popped his elbows up on the table in front of him, his fingertips neatly pressed against each other. Behind him, the portraits of former headmasters were glowering at her.

This was not good.

"I learned of your little speech yesterday, Minerva," he finally said and she almost burst out with relief that the awkward silence had finally been broken but then upbraided herself. Let him talk and find out how much he knows, she thought to herself.

"And I must tell you that it had the most hazardous effect upon our staff." He knitted his brow and leaned back in his chair. "I did not expect you to take such drastic measures without consulting me first."

Over the years, Minerva and Dumbledore had formed a firm and trusting friendship that allowed for them to always confide in each other. Usually, she would run important matters past him before taking action, he was quite right. Lately, however, he was busy with his work for the Order and she deemed it her duty as deputy-headmistress, to attend to problems at the school in his absence. And his absences had become quite frequent, recently.

"We just made a little bet. That is nothing unusual around here, as you might recall," she said stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge the problem.

Dumbledore gave her a kind little smile. "Of course, I do. I do also clearly remember when there was a bet on whether my beard would grow beyond two feet before a certain date. I was mysteriously followed by a bewitched metering rule for several days."

Minerva could not help but roll her eyes as that bet had almost brought the student body's attention to their little secret betting society. If Professor Vector hadn't quick-wittedly obliviated George Weasley, the ancient tradition of betting among the staff might have as well been aborted then and there. Dumbledore's smile faded away.

"As much as I enjoy watching the faculty's shenanigans, I am afraid this is a matter far too serious to place a bet upon." He shook his head. "Dolores has been appointed by the Ministry, Minerva. If my staff starts terrorizing her, they will think I am even more of a head case than they already do."

And Minerva could imagine where they were coming from. While she held great respect for the headmaster both personally and professionally, she could not deny that he had a certain weirdness to him. His obsession with knitting patterns was legendary and so was the pleasure he took in swimming in the lake stark naked. Fortunately, no student had ever encountered him like that or the school board might have started a riot. Also, he cared for a lot of other nonsensical things that Minerva did not even begin to understand. If she had not known him that well, she might have, too, thought that he was losing his marbles. Or had done so several decades ago. What she usually found endearing now bothered her.

"Albus, I have grown to care for the mismatched ensemble of characters you deem competent to teach the young magical population but if you let Professor Umbridge's rule of terror go on, she will have them all fired by the end of term!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "And you think that a bet will change that?"

"They might be neurotic but they are not daft, Albus. Nobody will attack her in the open!" Minerva exclaimed, reasonably flustered.

"I just happened to come across Sybil who was lurking in front of Dolores's office this morning. Who knows what might have happened, had I not wrestled the dung bomb from her grasp." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"She also told you about our bet, didn't she?" Minerva asked, inwardly cursing the Divination teacher's all-encompassing incompetence. Dumbledore nodded and then shook his head.

"You were always a fiery woman when it came to defending the ones you love, Minerva," he said with a little too much sentimentality for comfort.

"Oh, come on. I do not _love_ them. They are just my colleagues."

He said up straight. "As it is, Minerva, I will be away for a while again. I expect you to have their backs and make sure they do not maneuver themselves into tight spots."

Minerva wondered whether he had just silently given her his seal of approval or whether he just knew that nothing could stop what their betting club had set into motion. It was probably the latter. Minerva said her goodbyes and wandered back into the faculty lounge. The large, comfortable room was equipped with several desks and seating arrangements, so it usually was a space of quiet reflection, essay grading or – especially in Professor Binns' case – peaceful snoring. Today, however, the atmosphere was one of tangible agitation. Snape and Sinistra were at a large desk by the window, clearly bickering.

"Why did you cross that out? What do you know about potion-making anyway? Every part of an instruction can be vital. _Vital_, Aurora! However unimportant it may seem to the untrained eye!" Snape had raised his right hand in a gesture of deepest disbelief while Sinistra, who was sitting atop the desk Snape was sitting in front of, shook her head, still holding her quill. A few drops of ink sprayed her dress but were not visible on the dark-blue fabric.

"I don't suppose it would make a difference to the resulting potion if the part 'dim-witted as you may be, make sure to...' was taken out," she said matter-of-factly. "And while we're at it, 'remember to clean your cauldron after you have aborted your pathetic attempts at brewing' could easily be done without, too."

"That is the only way they learn, Aurora!" Snape complained.

Sinistra rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently. "You do not need to scare students who read your book, Severus. By the way, that is also why I'd strongly advise you to choose a different photo for the book jacket."

Snape threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "And what is wrong with that again?"

Sinistra reached for the pile of documents in front of her and pulled out a large photo that she then held up for the potion master's inspection. Pictured in it was a close-up of Snape's face and shoulders. Even from her position at the door, Minerva could see that Snape was scowling in the picture and had tilted his head slightly so he was almost creepily staring up his even larger than normal-looking nose at the viewer.

"Do I actually need to say anything about that?" Sinistra asked wearily.

"What? Did you expect me to smile?" Snape asked, clearly insulted.

"Not necessarily, no. But you need to look a little less hazardous. No need to be jolly, but competent is just enough. The book won't sell if you look like an axe-murderer."

Snape narrowed his eyes and pulled a book from his robes, slammed it on to the table first, then changed his mind and held it up in the air for Sinistra's inspection. Minerva could see the familiar picture of Aurora Sinistra, leisurely leaning against a big brass telescope in a black dress, smiling openly at the camera.

"You look as if you were trying to seduce the buyer! That book should not be called 'A Beginner's Guide to Astronomy' but 'Take me right here'!"

"Is that why you have a copy in your possession?" Aurora asked smartly, ignoring his rather obvious insult.

Snape's eye twitched for a moment then he dropped the book back on to the table as if it was burning white-hot.

"No," he then said nastily. "Reading it aids my sleeping."

Minerva shook her head. Personally, she was inclined to give them two weeks before they would be on that very desk, snogging the hell out of each other. She would have even started a bet, had she not had her hands full already. Eager to forget about the awkward confrontation with Albus, she walked over to Charity Burbage who was busy having a go at a rectangular object with two small wholes at it with something that looked like a quill with a sharp edge.

"What is this?" she asked, sitting down in the chair next to Muggle Studies teacher. While she had grown up in the muggle world, Minerva had been removed from it for so long that she had never been able to keep track of the latest muggle inventions. The last one had been the invention of the steam engine. Or so it seemed.

"It's a tape and this is a pencil," Charity spoke as loudly as if Minerva was an ancient lady whose hearing was impaired. "As soon as I have repaired this, it will be as good as new!"

"And what do you need it for?" she spoke loudly, too, mocking Charity's way of speaking.

"You'll see." Charity gave an evil little laugh that sounded worthy of You-Know-Who himself. Or at least one of his worse Death Eaters. Minerva was a bit taken aback as the Muggle Studies teacher was one of the loveliest people she knew.

"Are your actions by any chance related to our bet regarding Umbridge?" Minerva asked.

"Minerva, if I explained it to you, I would give you an advantage! And I can assure you that I am very much inclined to win that dinner for two!"

Minerva could not deny that she was having a bad feeling about the whole thing. Nothing good ever came from Charity's attempts to use muggle technology - but all she could do was nod and attempt a smile. For a while, she idly watched Charity stick the pencil into one of the holes in the rectangular object and twist it so that the black string dangling from the object was gradually sucked back inside.

"Howdy, Minerva!" Hooch threw herself into the chair next to McGonagall, her wiry body clad in her usual uniform-like flying gear. Both her clothes and the chair creaked ominously. "I am going to fly up to her bedroom and throw Nargels in through her window!" she announced, beaming.

"Nargels don't exist!" Professor Vector hissed, barely looking up from a large pile of test-sheets that, by the looks of them, were riddled with mistakes.

"Damn that Lovegood-girl!" Madame Hooch slammed her fist on to the table and subsequently made Vector's ink bottle hop into the air.

"Do you mind?" Professor Vector growled. She seemed to be in a particularly foul mood today and somehow Minerva suspected that it had been caused by something other than her students' poor achievements. Snape and Sinistra wandered over towards them and sat down at the table, too.

"Do you have any ideas, yet, how to achieve our little..." Hooch looked around conspiratorially despite the fact that Professor Umbridge was teaching two stories below them at that very moment. "...goal?"

"I, personally, have resolved to observe my valued colleagues' attempts before I make a move myself," Snape said in a dignified voice.

"Meaning he has no idea how to do it," Sinistra translated effortlessly.

Snape glowered at her and Professor Vector accidentally broke her quill. Startled by the cracking noise, she looked up and frowned.

"Why are you wearing goggles, Hooch?" she snapped.

Hooch, who had been staring into space, shrugged in response. "Helps me think."

"I don't see how that would be possible," Vector said pointedly, then mended her quill.

"Anyway, Aurora. Do you so happen to have an idea yourself?" Snape had given up his mean stares.

"Actually, Severus..." She paused in imitation of his typical ill-timed pauses. "I do."

He folded his arms in front of his chest and arched an eyebrow. "So?"

"I won't tell you. For it is a secret." Aurora popped her chin up on her hand and gave him a dreamy smile. Vector broke her quill again but before anyone could remark on it, Charity gave a triumphant cry.

"Got it!" she exclaimed and pocketed her muggle object, then bolted from the room.

"She doesn't stand a chance," Snape said nastily. "That woman has never accomplished anything except making a spectacle of herself."

"She looked pretty sure of herself," Hooch remarked. "I wonder what she's planning!"

But for the rest of the afternoon, Charity was neither seen nor heard from and Sprout voiced her concern that she had got lost in the vast attics again, where she liked to retreat to to think. Also, she did not show up for dinner although it was her favorite. Minerva inhaled the rich aroma of the pumpkin soup that was sprinkled with a fair amount of ginger and took a look at the students whose cutlery was glittering with the light of the candles hovering in midair above them. It was a mild evening and the air held the spicy scent of autumn leaves that wafted in through the open windows.

Albus' seat remained empty just like Charity's and Minerva sighed, worried for the future of their world. With Voldemort on the rise, nothing was as it had been and although they had always known that he would return one day, it had seemed so far away. Now that the time had come, Minerva was not sure whether she felt ready for the fight. Maybe she never would. She surveyed her colleagues. Sprout had popped a worn-looking book about English herbs up against her goblet and was devouring the soup while reading. Flitwick was profusely apologizing to a soup-splattered Trelawney whose plate he had accidentally dropped his slice of bread in and Hooch was once again wearing her goggles, staring into the distance, apparently up to no good.

"Hem hem." The dreaded sound startled Minerva out of her reverie and she focused her gaze on to the toad-like Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher whose small eyes were staring from her plump face with feigned kindness.

"Good evening, my dear Minerva!" she addressed her in the girlish voice she liked to use to disguise her vicious nature.

"Dolores," she answered in a clipped voice. "What can I do for you?"

Umbridge gave one of her shrieking chuckles that made Minerva wince. The black bow on top of the new teacher's head bounced minatorially.

"Oh, nothing really, dear. I just couldn't help but wonder – and maybe I am wrong here – why every member of the faculty seems so distracted lately."

Minerva lowered her chin slightly to look at Umbridge over the rims of her glasses. "I am not sure what you are referring to, Dolores."

Umbridge inched closer to Minerva, entering her personal space. "If I find any of you planning a mutiny, I will let the minister know before you can do as much as blink." A startling chuckle marked the end of her ominous declaration.

"Mutiny? What would we be feeling mutinous about?" Minerva said, unable to fully keep the sarcastic tone out of her voice. Umbridge pressed her lips together in a tight smile that spoke of yet undisclosed amounts of evil to come.

"I assure you, Minerva, that you will regret feigning ignorance very soon!" With that said, Umbridge stuck her chin into the air and marched off with those small, mincing steps that Minerva already hated with a vengeance although she had made that woman's acquaintance only a few weeks ago.

It was a slow night in the castle. Still drowsy from a day spent in the sun, the students shuffled off to bed well before curfew and most of the teachers retreated to their respective quarters or offices for the evening. Only Sinistra set off towards her tower for her lessons, eyes wide with the three cups of strong coffee she had consumed after dinner. Although Minerva was usually stern with her younger colleague, she could really understand that the woman kept falling asleep at all times of day. Her sleep patterns were as irregular as it got and it was a miracle that she usually managed to show up to her lessons. Minerva wandered down the corridor towards the faculty lounge where she had left the novel she was currently reading, her mind already on the story, when she happened to walk past Umbridge's office.

The door was slightly ajar so she could see the other woman in her pink cardigan and ridiculous little hat, smoothing out some of the doilies that were strewn across every available surface. The rather corny kittens on the plates that were fastened to the wall behind her desk meowed ominously. Although Minerva knew that she was better off leaving straight away, she remained motionless for a moment. Loyal and self-critical as she was, mean people had always remained a mystery to Minerva McGonagall. Did Umbridge not have feelings at all? Or was her exaggerated loyalty to he Minister some ill-fated crush that was bordering on the obsessive? Minerva didn't know much about Umbridge except that she came from a pureblood family that had to feature a toad or two somewhere along their bloodline.

The world was not divided into death eaters and good people, she mused. Snape was also a stellar example of that hypothesis. Maybe, unlike Umbridge, he would find love. If Sinistra could take it. She was fussy when it came to close relationships of any kind, Minerva had observed over the years. For some reason, she preferred the stars to closer human contact. Sometimes she could be fairly sociable, especially when she'd had a butterbeer or two. Maybe it did her good to help Snape with his book. Minerva took one last look at Umbridge and felt a twinge of regret. Who knew what might have happened if Umbridge had ever found love?

Before she could dive more deeply into matters that were none of her business, she resumed her slow walk down the corridor, when suddenly an ear-shattering noise began to emit from Umbridge's office, echoing in the corridor. It was so loud that only after a while, Minerva managed to realize that it was actually music. A rather hectic beat was accompanied by some softer vibes and a slightly croaky male voice. Minerva had to concentrate hard to be able to make out the lyrics. Something about never going to give up and never going to let anyone down. The song was oddly catchy and soon she found herself humming along.

"_...never gonna tell a lie and hurt youuuuu..."_

Like a chubby goddess of revenge, Umbridge burst from her office, her eyes wide with anger, her hair standing up. The office door slammed into the wall and gave a loud banging noise that did not even begin to drown out the song.

"WHAT IS THIS?" Umbridge shouted over the beat.

"I THINK IT IS COMING FROM YOUR OFFICE!" A squeaky voice yelled back and Minerva found herself suddenly accompanied by Professor Flitwick who was craning his neck unsuccessfully to be able to see into the room.

"I WOULD BE AWARE IF THERE WAS A MUSIC GROUP IN MY OFFICE, NOW, WOULDN'T I?" Umbridge's face had assumed a nasty shade of purple with rage and Minerva was beginning to enjoy the situation. The song, however, had just begun to repeat itself and she suspected that it would do so for quite some time.

"I NEED HELP!" Umbridge shouted at Minerva, Flitwick and a flustered-looking Snape, who had just joined them from the other side of the corridor.

"SNAPE! GO IN THERE AND FIND THE SOURCE OF THE NOISE!" Umbridge commanded but Snape raised his shoulders in a non-committal shrug then cupped his ear with his hand to communicate to her that he did not understand what she was saying. He looked slightly regretful but Minerva could see from the slight twitching of his left corner of the mouth that he was pretending. And pleasurably entertained.

Umbridge huffed and turned on her heel to march back into her office. The other teachers followed, intrigued but already slightly put off by the song. Minerva could hear Snape's pained moan at the sight of the pink furniture and cats because she was standing right next to him. She gave him a smirk that he did not return. For Severus Snape did not fraternize. Of course.

It did not take Flitwick long to find the source of the music. Umbridge had been quite correct in her assessment that there indeed wasn't a band currently located in her office. Instead, the music seemed to come from a black, rectangular box that contained the object Charity had been feverishly working on back in the faculty lounge. Minerva knew at once, where the gleeful smile had been coming from.

"WHAT KIND OF SORCERY IS THIS?" Umbridge screeched, ironically, as she was faced with a muggle object. Minerva could not hear which spells she was firing at it but it remained quite unfazed, continuously blasting the music that was already stuck firmly in Minerva's head.

_...give you up..._

_...let you down..._

… _deseeeeeeert you..._

During the short time that they had needed to investigate, several students had arrived.

"YOU CAN HEAR IT EVERYWHERE IN THE CASTLE!" Someone reported. Hermione Granger had appeared in the doorway, bushy-haired and wise beyond her years, her school-tie slightly askew.

"It is a cassette-player!" She yelled loudly enough for just Minerva to hear.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, GIRL?" Umbridge cried, a little bit of hope audible in her voice. Minerva turned her head slightly and shot Granger a warning glare, barely perceptibly shaking her head. The song was making her ears bleed, but if it was doing the same to Umbridge, she would happily endure the predicament. Especially since Umbridge's bedroom was located right next to her office and no muffliatus charm stood a chance against this amount of noise.

"Um, I said: I NEED TO STUDY."

Umbridge began to yell at Hermione to leave at once and on her way out, the girl made a motion with her forefinger that Minerva understood to be the one motion that could put them all out of their mysery. One of the buttons was pushed down and apparently, pushing it again would switch the device off. Minerva distantly remembered Charity once talking about these objects. Umbridge, however, had surely never attended a single Muggle Studies lesson for she stood in front of the object, obviously seething but unable to act upon it.

"That's Rick Astley!" One of the students yelled over the noise. Apparently, he did not like Umbridge either, since he did not offer to disable the device either.

"I suggest we all go to bed now," Minerva shouted. "Children! Go to your houses! Severus, Filius, you are with me."

"AND WHAT ABOUT ME?" Umbridge was still furious and completely helpless at the same time. Minerva was beginning to enjoy the situation as the dreaded colleague now looked like a toad that was ready to literally explode.

"I AM AFRAID WE HAVE TO WAIT FOR ALBUS' RETURN TO RESOLVE THE MATTER!" Minerva replied, almost out of the door.

They walked away from the commotion towards the faculty lounge where the Ick Rastley person could still be heard but apparently the ancient stone walls did something to muffle the sounds. When they had all filed in, Snape slammed the door with an audible sigh of relief.

"The Dark Lord has no means of torture as effective as this."

"Please don't tell him about it!" Flitwick begged, honestly frightened.

"What by Merlin's beard..." Snape asked, his eyes wide and glassy with surprise. Minerva and Flitwick followed his gaze and found Charity Burbage, dancing by the fireplace with rather erratic movements, her fists punching at the air. Next to her stood Professor Vector, her eyebrow twitching along with her legs, apparently about to join in.

"What have you done, Charity?" Minerva asked sternly, snapping the Muggle Studies teacher out of her happy dance. She gave her fellow professors a wide and sure grin.

"Muggle technology. Never say it's not useful, again! She'll never realize that she just has to push the button to turn it off. Of course, I enhanced the volume magically but it will be a while before she figures out how."

Snape had folded his arms in front of his chest, looking skeptical.

"Don't you think she will ask the students about it?" he asked in a sly voice.

"Of course she will but they won't tell her. The only ones who even remotely like her are your Slytherins and I haven't had one of those in one of my classes ever since my first year here. And that was a relative of Goyle's who was so daft that he thought he was sitting Ancient Runes until half-term."

"If I may," Professor Vector said, approaching them. "I think Charity did just the right thing. Umbridge is going to loose her sanity over this."

"What's left of it," Snape interjected dryly.

"She is right!" Minerva agreed. "We will all have to stand that Ack Ristly person singing for a night from afar but she is going to be right at the center of it."

"I tell you guys," Charity said, her eyes gleaming almost manically. "I will win this thing."

Snape harrumphed and despite her best intentions, Minerva joined in.

"I propose a bet," the potions master added after a moment of silence in which they were all listening to Rack Istly singing his song in the background and the faint echo of Umbridge's raging.

"Another one?" Flitwick sighed.

"How many detentions do you think I will have to give out tomorrow because students are singing that damn song in class?"

"Depends on whether you give detention for humming, too," Vector said thoughtfully.

"Of course," Snape replied, short-tempered as usual.

It was going to be a long night.

- **to be continued **-

If you got a chuckle out of this, by all means, leave me a review. I watched the music video in question on youtube twice in order to get in the mood to write this! ;-)


	3. Head over Eels

**Chapter Three – Head over Eels**

Breakfast had only just started and Snape was already handing out detentions like Dumbledore usually handed out lemon drops. Some time around seven in the morning, Umbridge had apparently lost her composure and had thrown the cassette player into the Black Lake much to the dismay of its inhabitants, especially the Giant Squid that had thrown a downright fit. Or so Filch had breathlessly related to Minerva just before she had entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Snape was now circling the room, slice of toast in his right hand, listening in to conversations. Harry Potter was sitting next to Angelina Johnson, his hands raised in a gesture of defeat towards his Quidditch captain.

"Quidditch _is_ important to me, Angelina. I swear! _I am never gonna let you down_!"

"DETENTION!" Snape cried and Potter winced so badly that he dribbled pumpkin juice all over the front of his robes. He regarded his teacher with a dark look that spoke volumes towards their mutual dislike of each other.

"Why would you give me detention? I didn't do anything wrong. _You know the rules and so do I_!" Minerva wasn't sure whether he was consciously quoting the dreaded song but Snape did not seem to distinguish between intent and negligence.

"As much as it pains me to force your company upon myself, this has just earned you another afternoon of DETENTION. Maybe you should look for another seeker, Miss Johnson. Yours seems quite determined to miss practice."

Snape sneered and wandered off, leaving behind a seething Harry. Minerva shook her head. Not only was Snape hurting her house's chance at the Quidditch cup, but his hatred of Harry generally went too far. He was a good boy. Courteous and kind-hearted just like his mother. There was absolutely no reason to even begin to detest him, let alone treat him as cruelly and unfairly as Snape did. Minerva wondered whether it was in any way related to Snape's less than friendly relations to Harry's late father. But surely, a 35 year old man had to be above such childish behaviour? Hatred was not supposed to span a whole generation and Minerva resolved to confront Severus about it as soon as she got the chance. She had been letting him down too easy on this subject for far too long.

The door opened and a belated attendee walked in on wobbly legs and with dark shadows under glassy eyes. Minerva gasped at the desolate sight of Aurora Sinistra who looked as if she was going to fall asleep any minute. The Astronomy professor climbed the steps to the slightly elevated faculty table and heavily sank into a chair, reaching for her cup of coffee with both hands. People in her line of work were not exactly morning persons but today seemed especially bad.

"Are you alright, Aurora, dear?" Minerva asked. Aurora raised her head from her second cup of coffee and shook it slightly. Her eyes were blood-shot and her dark brown locks framed her pale face in an unusually unkempt mess. Minerva placed her hand on the younger witch's arm.

"Are you sick?"

"Yes. Sick of that song," Aurora replied in a raspy voice that seemed to emit deeply from a sore throat. She ran her hand across her face and rubbed her eyes. "Have you ever noticed the acoustics in this place? For some reason, loud noise such as hideous eighties songs is terribly magnified in the Astronomy tower. I haven't slept for even a second last night. At least I made quite the discovery! I know no one is interested in Astronomy but I just realized last night that Pluto has five moons, not four. Wonder how long it is going to take those muggles to find out about _that_!"

Minerva had to admit that Aurora was right. Astronomy seemed like the dullest subject in the world to her although quite a bit of magic was involved in configuring the telescopes.

"Rick Astley! For Merlin's sake. Whose idea was that?" Aurora lamented on.

Minerva furrowed her brow. "You know that song?"

Snape took the seat next to Aurora and raised his brows. His face did look less ashen than usual and a very faint blush had crept into his cheeks. Minerva decided that he enjoyed giving out detentions a little too much.

"My, Aurora. You look dreadful. What has happened to you?" he snarled.

"Rick Astley. That is what happened to me," Aurora replied darkly and held out her cup for him to refill. Snape followed her silent order and Minerva waited until she had drained it. Usually, she would talk to her about her unhealthy caffeine intake that, some days, was bordering on the hazardous. Today, however, she was eager to find out a little more about Aurora's past.

"You were saying that you knew that song..." she began, sneakily. Aurora shrugged, rubbing her eyes again. "Summer of 1987. Nine years ago. Had that muggle boyfriend who kept playing it to me. All romantic until he dumped me for that blonde bimbo." Sinistra's eyes were narrowed which gave her pretty features a thoroughly morose look.

"I'm sorry," Minerva said awkwardly.

"Don't be. Men are all rubbish, anyway." Aurora nodded her gratitude at Snape who had just refilled her cup again without being asked.

"Why, thanks, Aurora. Ever so charming," he growled but apparently abstained from making one of his more scathing remarks.

"Not you, Severus. You're my friend! That's different."

Snape's face lit up for a split second before the full meaning of her words began to sink in. Minerva felt sympathy for him as he had just been friend-zoned for all it was worth. Aurora, completely unaware of Snape's predicament, stretched and yawned but looked a little less dead than she had just moments ago. The same could not be said about Professor Umbridge, who had just come in, wearing too much make-up and a prim pink coat and skirt which were as flouncy as they got.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge!" Charity Burbage said in a sing-song voice. "I hear you got rid of that peculiar little object in your room. I am afraid, however, that the merpeople are more than just a little agitated because of it."

Umbridge seemed unable to even keep up the basics of her usual pesky attitude and just shot Charity a long, angry look.

"I do hope that we will be able to identify the culprit," Snape said with feigned sympathy, an emotion that was so out of place in him that even Aurora looked slightly taken aback.

"I already have a suspicion!" Umbridge blurted out, apparently still a bit deaf.

"Oh really? Do tell!" Charity said with forced cheerfulness.

Umbridge stabbed her scrambled eggs with her fork and directed her gaze at Harry Potter, who had apparently managed to soothe Angelina Johnson's anger and was now busy discussing tactics with her. When he caught Umbridge looking at him, he rolled his eyes and quickly turned his back at her.

"The Potter boy. That thing was a muggle artefact, I am sure. And he has been living in the muggle world for years." Umbridge ripped apart a slice of bread and slammed one half back on the table. "I will get that little brat."

"Ah, Potter," Snape said with pleasure. "Yes, he is a right trouble-maker."

"Won't you need proof, though?" Charity quickly interjected, looking a bit guilty for manoeuvring Harry Potter of all people into another dire situation.

"Proof!" Umbridge spat and Minerva sighed. The Ministry wasn't exactly known for always being in accordance with the rule of the law. If they were bothered by something as unimportant as basic human rights, they changed the law or simply ignored it. Punishing someone for something he was not responsible for without proof did not constitute a mistrial but was a perfectly normal occurrence.

Luckily, Snape did not comment further on Umbridge's indiscretion or Minerva might have had to strangle him.

When breakfast was over, Umbridge got up and hurried from the room, nose high up in the air. Apparently, she had consumed all the coffee Aurora had left over, because her steps were quick and hurried and her left hand seemed to twitch in irregular intervals.

Minerva rose from her own chair and quickly walked towards the exit when a heavy hand came to rest on her shoulder. Surprised, she turned around and was faced with Professor Grubbly-Plank, Hagrid's substitute until he was to return from his mission for the Order. She had close-cropped grey hair, a very prominent chin and piercing, light-grey eyes that she was currently glowering at Minerva with. Usually cheerful and friendly if in a slightly grumpy way, she seemed a little disgruntled today.

"Can I have word with you, Minerva?" she asked in a voice that was unusually deep for a woman's and spoke of years of smoking the pipe she was already holding in her hand again.

"Of course, Wilhelmina. What can I do for you?" Minerva asked, forcing a smile. She liked Grubbly-Plank but right now, her mind was on Potter and how to get him out of Umbridge's crosshairs. Grubbly-Plank took her by the arm and pulled her into of the alcoves that held suits of armour. This particular one was empty today, arousing suspicion that Peeves must somehow be involved. Before she could give the matter another thought, Grubbly-Plank had started upbraiding her.

"Is it because I am just a sub, Minerva?" she asked accusingly. "You could have bloody well told me about that bet! I really want to get involved. Why didn't you ask me?"

Minerva was shocked to discover that she had simply forgotten.

"Oh, I am sorry, Wilhelmina. It must have slipped my mind. You are very, very welcome to participate."

Grubbly-Plank still looked a bit displeased but also slightly mollified. "You got a lot on ya plate, Minni. Don't beat yourself up over it," she growled benignantly. "Anyway. I have got an idea how to get rid of the old bat more quickly than you can say 'buy me dinner'."

A definite sense of foreboding befell Minerva at the sight of two gleaming light-grey eyes that quickly vanished behind a large dose of pipe-smoke.

Minerva coughed.

* * *

"I'd say it is a little..." Snape inserted a pause that stretched out for so long that Minerva suspected that he was actually at a loss for words instead of doing it for effect. And she could not blame him. There was really no adjective that could accurately describe what Flitwick had come up with to torture Umbridge. Although she was sure that it would somehow prove effective, it was a little too-

"- infantile," Snape finally finished and Minerva, for once, whole-heartedly agreed with his assessment.

"Are you sure this is the right way to go about this?" she asked carefully.

Flitwick stared at her, a big red proverbial question mark hovering above his head. Was he really that naive?

"Are you really that naïve?" Snape inquired with his usual sarcastic undertone. Why were they thinking the same? It was annoying. Minerva prided herself in being completely different from Severus Snape and now this. Looking around, she wondered how the scene would have to unfold to a casual passer-by who just happened to stumble into the room. Since the faculty lounge was where staff meetings were conducted and lessons were planned, there were a couple of other rooms that were reserved to the staff, so that they did not have to spend all of their time alone in their quarters or in the workplace. The one they were currently in, was the most frequented because of its comfortable window seats and huge windows that presented a spectacular view of the grounds. It was late afternoon and the room was still flooded by warm sunlight, the sky a brilliant dark blue. While some of them had been sitting in the stuffed armchairs by the inner wall, others had been hovering by the opened windows, inhaling the spicy autumn air. All teachers present, however, had stopped paying attention to their books or the scenery when Flitwick had entered to present his "invention".

"I like it," Hooch said, predictably, which earned her a disgusted look from the painting that hung right above her head and depicted a fat monk with a sinister face and a half-eaten chicken leg in his chubby hand.

"What does it do?" asked Sinistra, who had abandoned her issue of Witch Weekly and now rose to stand next to Snape who immediately took a step aside to get some room between them. He was like a little school boy who hit the girl he liked over the head with a textbook. Minerva would have chuckled, had she not been so concerned as to Flitwick's antics. She remembered Dumbledore's request to keep her fellow professors out of trouble and cleared her throat.

"Filius, what you have done there is quite remarkable in terms of magical abilities," she said with calm appreciation of his work. "but I am afraid it will attract a little bit too much attention. I thought we had agreed on being subtle."

"Subtle?" Flitwick cried. "How is a muggle device blasting eighties songs at ear-shattering volume subtle?"

Minerva realized that she had chosen the wrong approach and shrugged helplessly, her head twitching slightly to the side in the way it did when she was severely annoyed. Flitwick looked at a loss with his rolled up sleeves, mussed-up hair and bright eyes. How on earth could she tell him the truth?

Snape took a swift step forward and came to stand next to her, his arms crossed in front of his black-clad chest, his gaze hard and unwavering.

"What Minerva is trying to tell you, Filius," he said in his usual cold but somehow rich tones. "is that a detached head that follows her around is not only entirely over the top, but will also not pass as a simple gadget Zonko's or – god forbid – the Weasley twins have devised. If you are intending to use it, you must consider that it will make the only people capable of such magical craftsmanship look suspicious. And I do not believe that I have to tell you that this is us."

The teachers were stunned into shocked silence into which the head that was floating in midair in front of Flitwick gave a jolt of laughter. "Oh my," it said. "You look like a toad."

The obviously pre-programmed response made Snape cock an eyebrow at Flitwick. "Really?" he asked, then turned on his heel and made a sinister exit, complete with the leisurely hair-flip. Minerva gave Flitwick a timid smile.

"As harsh as he can be sometimes, Filius. Severus is quite right."

She stepped forward to examine the head more closely. While it looked quite lifelike, it was clear that it was a puppet's. Its eyes were dull and bright blue, its head bald and its features looked almost cute.

"Is that supposed to be a baby?" Sinistra asked.

"You have all the charms of a dung bomb!" The head exclaimed in a deep, throaty voice that was at all kinds of odds with the infant-like looks.

"It is a doll's head," Flitwick explained, not entirely without pride.

"You go, girl," the head said jollily.

"So you're going to make that thing follow Umbridge around and randomly insult her?" Charity said, already sounding half-convinced.

"Precisely!" Flitwick cried and clapped his hands. "If we can confine it to – say – the faculty lounge and pretend it is not there, she will think she is going to lose it."

"That is cruel," said Hooch appreciatively. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"You will get yourself fired!" Minerva said heatedly. "She'll know it's you, Filius!"

"My, my. Calm down, old bat. Your ugly little bow will fall off your ugly little head," the head said and grinned, which was more unsettling than anything Minerva had seen in a while.

"Filius, please?" Flitwick looked crushed as the implications of what she was saying were sinking in. He looked at the head in a sad fashion, then hung his own head. With a wave of his wand, it came to rest on his shoulder like an absurd pet owl, cooing a little: "Your mother must have been a toad" into his ear. Minerva decided that this was far beyond the edge of reason. Apparently, everyone but her was already free falling.

"Maybe we should put this bet on hold," she said carefully. "I think it would be prudent to let things calm down and go about this again as soon as she feels safe again."

"I thought the whole point was to unsettle her!" Hooch protested.

"You were the one who wanted to do this!" Snape joined in. Apparently his exit had been for effect and he had somehow wound up returning. That was not at all an unusual occurrence.

"Please, I think Minerva might be right. We want to trip her, but we cannot risk her finding us out," Sprout said, her cheeks glowing reddish with her usual nervousness when addressing the faculty.

"I think we should go in for the kill!" Hooch disagreed.

"Kill?" Trelawney shrieked and Minerva just acknowledged her presence for the first time today. (Where had she come from?)

Minerva, quite unlike herself, decided to stall them. "Maybe we should wait for the headmaster to return before we make a decision," she said evasively.

While Sprout and Flitwick looked actually mollified and Snape had adopted an arrogant half-smirk – which was as good as it got, considering it came from him -, Hooch looked positively indignant. Surprisingly, it was Aurora Sinistra who spoke up first. She seemed to have recovered from her lack of night's sleep and the slightly flattened left part of her hair made Minerva suspect that she had been napping on corridor duty again in order to recuperate.

"It surprises me to hear that you actually bow to the headmaster's authority instead of handling things yourself, Minerva. Meaning: You cannot fool me. I know you think we are a bunch of misfits and I am also aware of the fact that you are trying to protect us, which is just fine. Anyway, we are here not only because Dumbledore took pity in our unfortunate existences, but also because we are talented witches and wizards. So allow us to handle things ourselves and step back." She had spoken calmly and without the slightest hint of anger in her voice. In fact, she was smiling kindly.

Snape looked as if the corners of his mouth were in spasms, which probably meant that he was about to laugh.

There was a bout of silence before Flitwick spoke again. "You often treat us like children, Minerva, but you are also usually right. I might have to put a little bit of work into Rupert. Make him a little more subtle." He shrugged self-consciously.

"You must live in a pond," the head on his shoulder purred comfortingly.

"Rupert?" Trelawney shrieked, apparently able to speak no more than one horrified word at a time.

"He already feels like a good friend. I thought I ought to give him a name." Flitwick admitted, blushing slightly.

While Sinistra returned to Witch Weekly with Snape unsubtly gazing over her shoulder to read about The Weird Sisters' latest drunken antics despite the fact that he regularly claimed that gossip was for the "feeble-minded", Hooch was sulking in a corner and Trelawney was picking her tea-leaves, sighing dramatically from time to time. Minerva relaxed slightly. She dipped a biscuit into her cup of tea and leaned back in her armchair. She was a little bit embarrassed that everyone had apparently noticed that she felt like a big sister to a group of small siblings that were up to mischief for of the time. On the other hand, she was glad that Flitwick had been stopped. The thought alone of him being sacked and thrown out of Hogwarts made her heart ache.

The rest of the afternoon was peaceful. While the sun gradually faded away and a nice, crackling fire was lit in the fireplace to replace the warmth of its beams, Hooch fell asleep in her seat, snoring lightly, Flitwick was engrossed in a novel and even Trelawney had quieted down to the point of occasional muttering. Sinistra seemed to have finally noticed that Snape was reading over her shoulder and grinned slightly to herself.

"It is dreadful really, isn't it, Severus? Heathcote Barbary! Flying around stark naked on a broom and then vomiting into someone's begonias. It is beyond disgusting."

"I was more startled by Myron Wagtail driving a muggle car into the Thames," Snape growled. "He was in my potions class. I remember him being very-" he trailed off at the sight of Aurora's sinister grin.

"I thought gossip was for the feeble-minded," she gloated.

Snape huffed. "I was just trying to lower myself to your level of intellect in order to be able to strike up a conversation with you that would not exceed your capacities."

He looked a little pleased with himself until Aurora retaliated.

"Oh, so you are now sacrificing yourself just to be able to have a chat. Do you actually _like_ me, Severus?"

Minerva took another sip of her tea. This was going to be interesting.

"You cannot actually believe that," he said disgustedly. "I could never take an actual interest in someone as quaint as you are."

Sinistra did not look hurt which probably stemmed from the fact that she knew that he was trying to insult her in order to hide the fact that she was right.

"You know, if you are so smart, Severus, I am sure you know the opposites to the following words. I have been struggling with that riddle."

Snape lifted his eyebrows and took a swift step towards her.

"Go ahead," he said in a bored voice, eager as always to display his magnificent intellect.

"So," Sinistra pretended to look pensive and actually placed her fingertip against her bottom lip, which distracted Snape for the shortest of moments.

"Always. Staying. From. Take. Me. Down."

Snape snorted, apparently bored. "Never going to give you up," he said without hesitation, then his eyes widened.

Aurora instantly exploded with laughter.

"Detention!" A newly awakened Hooch mocked his earlier reaction to any quotes from Rick Astley's song's lyrics.

Snape turned grey, then green and opened his mouth, probably about to hurl the meanest insult imaginable at the Astronomy professor, when he was interrupted by an ear-shattering scream. The cup fell from Minerva's hand and amber liquid began to seep into the rug beneath her feet. She ignored it and made for the door, wand drawn, followed by every one of the room's inhabitants except for Trelawney, who had gone into hiding beneath a table.

What on earth had happened now?

- **to be continued** -


	4. Triangle

**Chapter Four – Triangle**

**A/N: **A bit shorter than usual but at least I expect the updates to become a bit more frequent now that autumn is here. ;-) I hope you enjoy!

Professor Dumbledore was standing at the head of the large table that dominated the faculty lounge, his hands clasped tightly around the back of his chair. His gaze was stern and his blue eyes unreadable as he regarded his professors who were assembled around the table, avoiding his eyes like students that were about to be reprimanded. Even Snape, who usually made it a point to bow to no one, had developed a sudden interest in his cuticles. Trelawney looked downright frightened and was nervously chewing the tip of her wand which Minerva found both completely inappropriate and strangely endearing. Dusk had fallen outside and, one by one, the bewitched candles swished to life, dipping the room into a warm, cozy light. The headmaster, however, looked as non-cozy as a kind old bearded man who frequently evoked images of Santa Clause could ever manage to look. The silence he had been holding for the past ten minutes was slowly becoming impossible to bear and Sprout, cheeks reddened and eyes wide, began to move uneasily in her chair.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke: "I am sure that I do not need to explain to you how inappropriate and dangerous your actions were. And I am not only talking to you, Wilhelmina. This concerns all of you."

There was a moment of embarrassing silence before Aurora, who seemed on a quest to overcome her social awkwardness lately, addressed the headmaster quite heatedly: "What I don't understand is why you never do anything! That Umbridge woman is absurdly cruel! I saw Potter exit her office a few days ago and his hand was bleeding! The methods she uses make Severus look like a friendly kindergarten teacher who is handing out candy!"

Snape looked scandalized and was probably beginning to plot a way to impress Sinistra by wronging Potter horribly right away. Minerva made a mental note to finally have that talk with him concerning his animosities towards Potter.

Aurora ignored the openly sulking potions master. Apparently, she wasn't finished, yet. "I get that the Ministry is powerful, but she is terrorizing both the children and us. You are the headmaster but instead of protecting your own, you are constantly away on secret business. I am fed up with all of this! She slipped me a note today, announcing the fact that she will come and watch me teach tomorrow night. Right now, I feel very tempted to stick a telescope in her eye!"

Minerva had never seen the Astronomy professor this angry. Usually, she seemed pretty level-headed and calm but today she was more than a little out of line.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Aurora is right," Snape chimed in. "Granted, our methods might be a bit extreme, but we need to fight back somehow. If I have to see that little pink hat she has taken up wearing bob up in my classroom again, I might find myself forced to accidentally empty a cauldron of Pruritus Potion on to her."

Dumbledore raised both of his hands in a calming gesture. "First of all, it is nice to see that you two are, for once, in agreement," he said and smiled rather kindly at the duo to which Snape leaned back in his chair with a huff and folded his arms in front of his chest. "Second, I completely understand your predicament. However, Wilhelmina, you might have to see the error of completely prohibiting Professor Umbridge from sleeping, especially on a day that she spent nodding off during her own lessons due to your colleague's fondness of Crick Ristly."

"Rick Astley," Charity chirped.

"Whatever the name," Dumbledore soothed. "you cannot, and I repeat, you cannot stick twenty-four eels into your colleague's bed."

There was a moment of silence during which Wilhelmina ground her teeth nosiliy, taking a deep drag from her pipe. Minerva had been trying so hard to keep things together over the last days and had witnessed so many absurd events that suddenly she felt herself snapping. This was ridiculous! Eels in a bed, a talking head, muggle songs! Who knew what would be next! And truth be told, she had to admit to herself, she had not enjoyed herself that much in years. Few people knew that in her own time at Hogwarts Minerva had been not only a brilliant and popular student, but also an occasional prankster. Her jokes had always been good-natured and no one had ever been harmed, but she had loved the sense of excitement and freedom that came with – say – bewitching her teacher's chair and collaps and reassemble itself whenever he tried to sit on it.

"Yes, that was indeed very wrong, Wilhelmina!" she scolded the substitute teacher and found that Flitwick was rolling his eyes at her for the shortest of moments. That was when she decided that sometimes, one had to give up on one's usual values. "Those poor eels. I wouldn't want to end up in Umbridge's bed! I suggest you go and apologize to all twenty-four of them," she blurted out.

Minerva could hardly believe she had said it herself but the looks on her fellow professors' faces told her, that their disbelief must still exceed hers by far.

"Twenty-three," Wilhelmina drawled. "She killed one when she sat on it. That clumsy gobshite."

There was a split second of silence before everyone burst into fits of laughter, Minerva included. Even Dumbledore's mouth was twitching slightly and Snape unconvincingly faked a coughing-fit to mask his own amusement. It took them a moment to calm themselves and only Trelawney was still whinning sporadically when everyone else had already quieted down.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and her ill-timed laughter subsided.

"You will apologize to Professor Umbridge, Wilhelmina and you will nurse that eel back to health. Since, as you have wrongly been informed, it is not dead but seriously injured nonetheless. Also, you will have to find a way to make her believe that this has been an accident."

After Dumbledore had declared the meeting over, Minerva hurried away from the others, duely embarrassed by her uncharacteristic joke. She prided herself in being a strict and fair but very serious person and what she had said had been downright silly - despite the fact that it had sparked a lot of amusement among her colleagues. Slightly worried that any contact with anyone else would inevitably lead to good-natured allusions to her earlier indiscretion, she decided to call on the only completely humor-free person in the castle. So after hiding in her quarters for a while, she made her way towards the dungeons.

The torches on the walls flickered in the draught that always seemed to chill the castle's basement and, not for the first time, Minerva wondered whether Salazar Slytherin had purposefully installed it himself to make his part of the castle even more eery and univiting. Snape's quarters were located one corridor down from his classroom and office and only her own steps echoing from the walls kept her company until it was joined by the sound of a second pair of feet. Minerva, who was not very eager to have that long-dreaded conversation with Snape, turned around to find out who it was that paid Snape a visit so late in the day.

Professor Vector looked a little sheepish at the sight of Minerva, who, observant as she was, immediately noticed that the other professor's hairstyle was not as strict as usual and that she was wearing slightly more flattering robes. Could it be…? She thought back to the broken quill in the faculty lounge and her morose facial expression whenever she saw Snape and Sinistra together. How could she have not made the connection, Minerva scolded herself.

"Septima!" she called. "On your way to see Severus?"

The Arithmacy teacher did not look very happy to see Minerva, let alone willing to share her intentions with her.

"Yes, um, he lent me a book," she said, holding up a battered-looking volume. "I just thought I'd return it to him. And you?" she added a little too quickly.

"I have a bone to pick with him," Minerva stated grimly.

"A bone…?" Professor Vector began but was interrupted by a door that was opened with so much force that it slammed into the wall and gave off the direful noise of splintering wood against stone. Both women froze in their place and stared down the corridor towards the source of the commotion that turned out to be Aurora Sinistra. And a thoroughly furious one that was too caught-up in what had to be a horrible wrongdoing to realize that she was not alone.

"You are impossible! I have no idea why I still put up with you, you sorry excuse for a writer!" she shouted. "I wonder whether you can fathom how often I fell asleep why reading your manuscript! The only thing that kept me awake was your ridiculously faulty comma placement!"

She stood in the corridor, seething and clenching her fists at her sides.

"What do you know?" Snape's not-so-cold voice sounded from the inside of his quarters. "Your book is riddled with spelling errors!"

Aurora's face turned red. "It. Is. Not! I told you a thousand times that it is only one!"

When Minerva heard Snape's tone of voice, she could imagine the mean sneer on his face. "But misspelling constellation with a single l? That is poor, Aurora. Very poor."

Aurora put her hands on her hips. "I can tell you what's poor, Severus! Your picking a fight about pretty much everything ever! I really don't see why you always need to be so incredibly mean to everyone!"

She took a step backwards when Snape took an unexpected step out of his quarters and so did Minerva and Professor Vector, who weren't so keen on being detected. Minerva, at least, was unwilling to leave because she found the scene unfolding in front of her, far too interesting to walk out on it. Professor Vector looked sick.

"I am not mean. I am just being reasonable," Snape hissed which was probably the closest he ever got to shouting.

"Reasonable!" Aurora threw her hands in the air. "Reasonable!" she mocked him. "You are the least reasonable person that I know!"

"Oh, really? Because I was under the impression that you knew Professor Trelawney," Snape answered with impressive dignity, given the circumstances.

"At least she doesn't constantly pick on Harry Potter!"

Minerva raised her eyebrows. Apparently she was not the only one who had noticed Snape's ridiculous little vendetta. Now it was Snape's turn to throw his hands in the air, only that he did it with slightly less vigor and still managed to look quite intimidating.

"Another member of the Potter fan club, I see. Not only does he live in Dumbledore's pocket, he has also won the heart of the nutty professor."

"Don't call me that!" Aurora demanded.

"Then act accordingly. You lack self-control as well as poise. It is quite dreadful."

Aurora's eyes narrowed and she dropped her hands next to her body, her shoulders slightly raised in anger. "Then why don't you ask Professor Vector to help you with her book? She has so much poise that one has to wonder whether she swallowed a broomstick at some point!"

Minerva's eyes flickered towards Professor Vector who looked a bit flattered despite the fact that Sinistra had clearly meant it as an insult.

"Because," Snape said pointedly. "I do not want to do this to her."

At first, Minerva thought Snape was going to hurt Aurora when he took a swift step towards her and grabbed her around the waist, swung her around and half crashed, half swung her against the wall. He closed in on her and pressed his lips on to hers to engage her in what looked like a peculiar mix between a kiss and a struggle. Minerva knew that the line had to be drawn at witnessing her co-workers intimate moments and so she grabbed the unresponsive Professor Vector by the arm and forcefully escorted her back to ground-level where she stood, trembling.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Minerva tried, feeling a bit sorry for the usually collected woman. "Would you care for a cup of tea maybe?"

Vector raised her eyes to Minerva's and for a moment looked as if she was about to cry. Then her expression changed.

"Oh that little hussy! She has been pursuing him for months!"

"Ehm," Minerva replied, at a loss for words. Maybe it was the isolation that came with living in a castle far away from society. Yes. That had to be it. Because otherwise, why on earth would two women like Aurora Sinistra and Septima Vector be interested in someone like Snape? Someone who utterly lacked congeniality, prided himself in being the meanest and most unfair teacher of Hogwarts and seemed to not take basic hair care nearly seriously enough? A man who dressed as if he was going to attend a funeral and was as pale as if he hadn't seen daylight in a decade? How came that every single student in Hogwarts hated Snape one way or the other – even though the Slytherins would never admit to it – while the female teachers swooned over him? Did Sprout and Trelawney secretely have a thing for him, too? Had everyone gone mental?

Calm down, Minerva, she told herself when suddenly, an idea started to form in her mind. Personally, she did not get what they liked about Snape but maybe… maybe…

"Oh Minerva!" Vector threw her arms around the McGonagall and squeezed uncomfortably tightly. "Why am I always the one left out? Why can't a man ever choose me?"

Minerva decided that another "ehm" might not cut it, so she patted her younger colleague's back gently. "I am sorry, Septima, but you will meet someone, I am sure."

"Who? Hagrid?" Vector sobbed then hiccuped.

Minerva was a patient and sympathetic woman but she felt extremely unfortunate to be trapped with Septima right now that she had a plan to work out in her mind.

"Look, I think you should have a cup of tea and settle down. A kiss is just a kiss."

She knew that the line was as useless as it got, but it still seemed to work on Vector.

"Are you sure?"

"How can you ever be sure?" Minerva smiled and squeezed the other professor's hand. Septima seemed to regain her composure and nodded, looking slightly embarrassed.

"You are probably right, Minerva. Thank you. I'll see you in the morning then."

She walked off and left Minerva to her own devices. The deputy-headmistress hesitated for a moment and then decided to simply go for it. She had not yet decided what she would do to win that bet but the epiphany that had just hit her seemed to point her in the right direction. The only problem was to get Severus to participate. Quickly, she went the way she had come and was both relieved and slightly unsettled to find the corridor empty. Hopefully, Sinistra had hit Snape over the head with a blunt object and stormed off. Or maybe not, because Vector liking Snape, Snape liking Sinistra and Sinistra not liking Snape was not a scenario she wanted to imagine unfolding anywhere close to her.

She raised her hand and knocked at the door. There was a moment of silence before it was opened by Snape who fortunately, was completely dressed and equipped with his usual sneer. Behind him, Aurora was sitting at the table as if nothing had happened, feverishly crossing out entire lines on a piece of parchment while he had his back turned to her.

"Minerva, how lovely," Snape said sarcastically. "what can I do for you?"

"I am here to offer you a deal," she said.

- **to be continued** -


	5. The Umbridge strikes back

**Chapter Five - The Umbridge Strikes Back**

Looking back, the past month had been less than pleasant, Minerva concluded in the understatement of the decade. (Ten years ago Trelawney had said that Voldemort might be "slightly evil".) Along with the yellowing leaves and the freezing Scottish autumn wind, a cold and unwelcoming atmosphere had invaded Hogwarts castle. It had arrived in stealth, unrecognized until it was too late. Students no longer roamed the corridors with excited chatter and more often than not, Minerva found them crying or simply shivering, the backs of their hands a violent red. The younger children seemed terrified, the older ones furious but unable to act upon it. Even the Great Hall was more quiet than usual at mealtimes, with heads bent low over soup bowls and plates under the ever watchful eyes of Dolores Umbridge.

Despite the fact that Umbridge rarely attended the faculty lounge as she was presumably too busy scaring the living hell out of the student body, the comradeship between the professors had cooled down to a frosty silence. Snape was still irritated by Minerva's suggestion as how to take Umbridge down and had dropped out of the bet, while Vector had taken up picking on Sinistra who had consequently gone back to her old withdrawn ways and spent most of her days burying her nose in books or magazines in order to avoid having to speak to anyone other than Snape whose subtle ways of comforting her were quite endearing if you ignored the malevolent sneer that always went along with bringing her tea or suddenly producing the latest issue of Witch Weekly. That, of course, did not serve to cheer Vector up at all and made her even more snappy towards Sinistra. Minerva wished the Astronomy professor would just grow a backbone and tell her colleague off, but unfortunately, she was notoriously helpless with people. Professor Sprout was now honestly afraid of Umbridge and spent most of her days in her green house, keeping to herself and away from her potentially trouble-making fellow professors like Madame Hooch who had almost been fired after calling Umbridge a "horribly hazardous hag" and Charity who was under scrutiny for teaching muggle studies which the Ministry deemed insignifant as a subject.

In a nutshell: Things were a mess at Hogwarts.

One morning, Minerva was standing by the window in her office, steaming cup of tea in hand. The strong scent of peppermint and honey wafted into her nose and, looking over the grounds outside, she felt almost content despite the fact that the clouds hung deeply in a bleak November sky. Suddenly, a loud noise caught her attention and she set the cup down to hurry and find the source of the distraction. It was quickly discovered in front of the Great Hall, where many students and professors had already gathered to watch what was happening. Filch, on a spindly old ladder that had seen better days, was swinging a hammer onto a rusty old nail that was meant to fasten a large wooden sign to the wall. Dolores Umbridge, looking prim and insufferable in yet another pink ensemble, stood by, her short arms folded in front of her chest.

"What does it say?" Minerva asked Flitwick who was standing closest.

"She has been appointed High Inquisitor of Hogwarts," Flitwick informed her gravely. "A post that has been invented purely to give her an unreasonable amount of power and make our lives hell."

Minerva felt as if something cold was trickling down her back. This was not good.

"High Inquisitor?" she heard Snape's voice on her other side. "What kind of powers are being referred to her by that title? Is she free to torture students? Because if that is the case, I might have to consider acquiring such a title, too."

Minerva ignored the comment although she was secretely glad that Snape had finally decided to talk to her again. While she was watching Filch's predictably futile attempts to drive an old nail into a stone wall, she thought back to the evening in Snape's dungeons when she had decided it was a good idea to ask Snape whether he would be alright with flirting with Umbridge. Although she had chosen her words carefully, Snape's eyes had widened and his face had turned an even unhealthier shade of white while Sinistra had choked on her tea and launched into a coughing fit. Snape had accused Minerva of losing her marbles and pretty much thrown the door in her face before she had the chance to elaborate on her plan. If the women of Hogwarts were inexplicably drawn to Snape – and she suspected Stockholm's Syndrome there – Umbridge might be, too. If he came on to her a little and made her feel appeciated, she might just soften a bit so they could catch her unaware. Of course, that plan was a bit faulty, but Minerva had quite liked the idea, initially. Now, however, she could see the errors in it. Umbridge was as cold as a fish. She might not even react if Prince Charming rode in on his white horse and offered to sweep her off her feet. Let alone feel drawn to Snape who'd probably pickle the horse and insult the princess. And then there was Aurora. Minerva was not nosy. She liked to stay out of other people's private affairs but the fact that she had not yet found out whether she reciprocated Snape's feelings was killing her. Naturally, Vector had already made up her mind which accounted for her treating Aurora like the man-eating terror that she was far too awkward to be.

Minerva was snapped out of her reminiscence by Umbridge's usual "hem-hem" that accompanied Filch's triumphant dismounting of the ladder.

"Dear students, dear professors! As you can see, I have hereby been appointed High Inquisitor of Hogwarts by the Minister for Magic. As such, I will formally inspect lessons again and will review a number of other activities at this school." She gave the crowd a complacent smile and marched off, nose stuck high up in the air.

"I get so angry when I see her," Flitwick whispered and Minerva had to bent down slightly to hear him clearly. "I wish I could use Rupert on her but I cannot lose my teaching position. How am I supposed to find employment at my age?"

Snape, who was known for his good hearing, bent down, too, making them look like rather comical.

"Look who's talking. I am the one who cannot risk to be let go. Who would employ me? The Dark Lord does not exactly hand out letters of reference."

Minerva had seldom heard Snape talk so frankly about his dark past and so she was too taken aback to answer.

"Is this an intimate talk in the corner? Can I join in? Do you need advice on how things are going to turn out for you?" Trewlaney's head appeared in their circle, wedged in between Snape's and Flitwick's, her magnified eyes peering at them with some distress.

"I do not feel the need to have my fortune predicted, Sybill. I am actually quite capable of foreseeing my future myself," Snape told her in an icy voice. "I will educate young minds in this god-forsaken place until, one day, I shall collapse dead over a particularly dreadful essay."

Trelawney grabbed his hand and inspected his palm. "Why so gloomy, Severus? I see love in your future!"

"Do you?" Flitwick and Minerva asked in unison. Apparently she wasn't the only one who wondered about the state of Snape's love life. The potion's master elegantly raised an eyebrow and withdrew his hand, making quite a show of wiping it on his sleeve and then smoothing out his cuff. When he looked up he pretended to be surprised by his colleagues' expectant looks.

"My, do not tell me you are taking her seriously," he said smoothly and then walked off, looking smoldering.

"Do you think he and Aurora have something?" Flitwick whispered when Trelawney had wandered off to randomly predict another sorry individual's future.

"I am not sure," Minerva said carefully as gossiping about what she had seen in the hallway a few weeks ago seemed just plain wrong – though tempting.

"It is hard to determine," Flitwick agreed. "He seems awfully nice around her, however. Well, if you can ever call his behavior 'nice'."

They started walking towards Minerva's office, eager to get the bad news off their minds.

"I am quite sure about him," Minerva said. "I just don't know about her."

"Ah," Flitwick said. "She is an usual one. I saw her with a fellow in Hogsmeade about two years ago. They seemed to get along well but when he tried to kiss her, she turned a violent shade of green and made off."

Minerva was not surprised as Aurora could not exactly be described as a people person.

"Would you like to bet?" Flitwick asked, a well-known manic gleam in his kind eyes. Minerva held up her hands in a defensive gesture.

"Don't you think we have enough on our plates, Filius? The last bet we initiated caused only chaos. I am not sure I am ready to engage in another."

Filius shrugged. "Maybe you are right, Minerva. It is just— everyone is scared of what Dolores might do. Have you noticed how cold this place seems nowadays? All the cheer is gone."

As if on cue, a nearby tapestry swayed slightly in a cold breeze that came in through a half-open window and made the two professors shudder. The corridor was now empty and despite the fact that it was almost noon, the sun had vanished behind a barrier of clouds.

"The Daily Prophet has done a formidable job of discrediting Albus," Minerva said quietly. "He holds little power in our world, nowadays. I fear that there is no legitimate way of relieving Dolores of her duties around here."

"There needs to be something we can do!" Flitwick lamented. "Maybe Rupert—"

"Forget Rupert!" Minerva said quickly. "There needs to be another way."

"But which? Our feeble little attempts to get to her seem to have only made her stronger and has caused discord between us." He hung his head and suddenly looked like the little old man that he was.

Minerva placed a comforting hand on his shoulder but didn't know what to say to cheer him up as he was quite right. They were all in danger of losing their jobs if they rebelled against Umbridge. How could a person like her be entrusted with so much responsibility? Had the minister lost his mind? Was he even aware of what she was doing and how she was treating the students? They walked in doleful silence until they reached the door to Minerva's office which she then entered alone. With a sigh, she sat down behind her desk and helped herself to one of her ginger cookies. When had she last felt that helpless? When Voldemort had risen to power and had taken control of the Ministry? When she had been notified of the Potters' gruesome deaths? When Slytherin had won the goddamn Quidditch Cup for the third time in a row and Snape had come by her office with the smuggest expression an evil face like his was capable of producing? Flitwick was right. Their previous attempts at doing something had only made things worse and had driven them apart. They had to stand united if they wanted to accomplish something.

There was an urgent knock at the door and she called the visitor in, straightening up in her chair. The door opened and in stepped a flustered-looking Charity Burbage.

"Minerva!" she exclaimed, breathless with agony. "Professor Umbridge came by to inspect my lesson and discovered my Rick Astley collection in a drawer. I think I might be in trouble."

"Are you sure she will make the connection?" Minerva asked uncomfortably. This wasn't good, indeed.

"Well, one of the tapes was labelled "Never gonna give you up" and I believe she has heard the song often enough to immediately—"

"— hear it in her head? Thank you, Charity. That is what just happened to me."  
Charity had the grace to look sheepish for a moment but then raised her hands in a gesture of defeat.

"What do I do, Minerva? She has been going on lately about how little importance muggle studies held to a well-adusted curriculum. If she finds out that I was responsible for the Rick Astley incident, she will surely give me the sack. And where would I go, Minvera? Where would I go?"

Minerva placed her hand on the other woman's arm.

"Try to relax, Charity. She has apparently not made the connection, yet or she would have taken action already. Try to keep a low profile and don't be too worried. We will find a way to figure it out."

Charity eyes were brimming with tears. "Are you sure, Minerva?"

Despite her better judgement, Minerva nodded with a kind smile.

"Everything will be fine eventually, Charity. Don't get yourself too worked up about nothing."

Five minutes later, Minerva was alone again and felt more gloomy than ever. Hooch was already on probation due to her misplaced insult, Trelawney was always on the verge of getting fired nowadays due to the fact that she would not be able to predict anything correctly if her life depended on it and now Charity. Gentle Charity, who loved nothing more than to show the wonders of the muggle world to the students and make them realize that even without the aid of magic, muggles could perform a variety of things and were quite fascinating. This was simply not fair.

The next day, upon returning from her last lesson of the day, Minerva found Aurora alone in the faculty lounge, grading essays. She looked tired, which was little surprising as she usually worked nights. There were several spells that could be used to drive the clouds directly above the Astronomy tower apart in order to have a clear look at the sky but they required enourmous skill and concentration which probably served to make her lessons more strenuous than usual in this weather.

"Hello, Aurora. How has your day been so far?" Aurora, whose eyes had begun to droop, sat up with a start and stared at Minerva in shock.

"Eh, alright, I suppose," she replied. "Potter has made quite a nice effort with his essay. I am quite puzzled though, as I don't have the least inkling as to how he got the idea that Europa was covered in mice."

Minerva bent over the piece of parchment. "I think the 'm' has been crossed out, don't you think?"

Sinistra screwed up her eyes and tilted her head. "Hm. That would explain a lot. Where are my glasses again?" She raised her wand. "Accio glasses!"

Her black-rimmed glasses flew at her from the direction of Professor Vector's usual seat and when she caught them in her hand, Minerva could see that they were broken in several places.

"Reparo," Sinistra said and pushed them up her nose. "Ah, I can see it now. The 'm' has indeed been crossed out. I might not have to explain the animals' need to breathe oxygen to young Mr Potter after all."

"Aurora," Minerva said softly. "Why don't you tell Septima to leave you alone?"

Aurora avoided her gaze and busied herself with folding up Potter's essay. "Why would I, Minerva? It would just be an unpleasant confrontation."

"She is clearly bullying you," Minerva pointed out. "but she is a reasonably nice person. If you tell her that she is bothering you, she will surely come to her senses."

Aurora gave a sarcastic laugh. "Come on. She hates me."

"She doesn't! She is just head over heels for Severus."

Only when Aurora stared at Minerva with wide, shocked eyes, the older woman realized that she was probably the only person in the castle that had not yet made the connection. And indeed, Sinistra's reply consisted of a feeble "oh". How moony could a person be? Did Luna Lovegod have an older sister in the Astronomy professor? Minerva couldn't imagine that there could be two people that dreamy that were not related to each other by blood.

"So she hates me because… oh no."

"Yes?" Minerva asked and noticed the same instant that she sounded rather sly even to her own ears. Was there a better moment to get a confession out of her?

"Because you are engaging in completely inappropropriate relations with your fellow professor. That is absolutely inacceptable behavior!"

Aurora was so surprised that she knocked over her ink bottle and Minerva shrieked, as the dark blue liquid quickly seeped into her robes. Professor Umbridge filled the door frame, once again looking like a goddess of revenge, her fist raised in self-righteous anger. She marched towards the table and stared down at a frightened-looking Sinistra.

"An unmarried woman like yourself, Professor Sinistra! You should be ashamed! And right under the noses of your impressionable students!" Umbridge continued her tirade. "I should have known you were a witch of questionable virtues when I first saw you!"

Aurora's eyes had widened and she did not manage to get out even a single word. Confrontations, it seemed, were not something she dealt with well. That, however, came as no surprise.

"And Professor Snape, no less! You seem to lack both decency _and_ taste!"

Minerva realized that she was trembling with anger only when she found herself standing.

"How would you know anything about that?" she demanded. And rightfully so, she thought. If even she had not managed to find out the truth, how could Umbridge? _Nobody_ talked to her and the students were far too preoccupied with hating her and Snape equally to pay attention to their potions master's alleged shenanigans. Unless…

"Did Professor Vector talk to you about this?" she asked before she could catch herself.

"That is none of your business, Minerva!" Umbridge snapped, her eyes gleaming with a nauseating mixture of glee and wrath.

"So is Professor Sinistra's relationship with Professor Snape- if there actually is one!" Minerva cast a sideward glance at Aurora who was still staring dumbfoundedly. What had happened to the delightful banshee that had been yelling at Snape down in the dungeons? Maybe the did have a relationship if she could open up around him that much.

"You are on probation for inappropriate behavior!" Umbridge told Sinistra with a sinister glare. "And you, Minerva, better watch what you say or you might find yourself sans a teaching position very soon."

With that said, she walked out of the room. Minerva seized Aurora by the shoulders.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Aurora finally looked up from the spilt ink and furrowed her brow in distress.

"That is why I hate human contact," she said in a small voice that made Minerva roll her eyes.

"First of all, Aurora, you need to learn to stand up for yourself to someone other than Snape."

Aurora interrupted her. "It's different with Severus. Fighting is his primary method of communication!"

Minerva silenced her with a strict glare. "And now, Aurora, you are coming with me. You are my third professor on probation and I will not let this stand. Albus might contend himself with plotting whatever he is plotting up in his office while his school is in shambles but I will not. That bet is back on. Moreover, we will have to develop a strategy to take that horrible nuisance of a witch down."

"Sounds like a plan!" Aurora stood up and knocked the ink bottle over a second time, this time spilling it over herself. Covered in ink, they marched out of the room.

- **to be continued** -


End file.
